The Silver Sphinx

 

“The mother of all snakes has three faces:

She whispers wisdom to you, she lures you with beauty, she devours you in anger. And all three are true.”

naga proverb

 

 

 

Third Void Day of Mortis, 126 HR

Morânia and Naghûl had been unusually quiet on their way to the portal that would lead them to the realm of the naga goddess Shekinester. Otherwise, they would chat or joke about this and that but on this day, dangers and unpredictable risks lay ahead of them, ventures whose outcome was unclear at best. So they remained silent most of the way from the Festhall to the Market Ward, lost in their own thoughts. After Red Shroud had named the abandoned Opal Tears Palace on the edge of the Court of Light as the meeting place, the question had naturally been: how to get there from Sigil by the shortest route. Factol Ambar had called on the services of Lissandra the Gate-Seeker, and she had given him the location of a suitable portal. It was located in the basement of a small apothecary's shop in the Market Ward. At least here, fate was smiling on them, for it belonged to an elderly gnome who was a member of the Ciphers. Thus, factol Rhys had been able to kindly persuade the lady to leave her shop at the planned time of departure and enjoy a massage at the Great Gymnasium in the meantime. According to Lissandra, the exit of the portal in Shekinester's realm was about a three-hour walk from the Opal Tears Palace.

So that the group's plan would not attract too much attention, they had decided not to go to the apothecary's shop all together, but one by one. The time set for Naghûl and Morânia was two hours and ten minutes after the First Light, and they reached the respective block of houses right on time. Morânia wore her armor and carried her sword and shield, while Naghûl had chosen his black and gold battle robe, sturdy boots and the staff whose blue crystal concentrated his arcane powers. In the narrow alleyway they turned into shortly before reaching their destination, they noticed a faint scent of cinnamon and dried herbs. At the end of the small street, nestled between a house with crooked shutters and one with crumbling blue plaster, was the Whisperroot Apothecary. Above the green-painted door hung a dark wooden sign with the name written in delicate, slightly faded letters. As Morânia pressed the handle and entered quietly, she was enveloped by an earthy scent of roots and resins, mixed with the sweet heaviness of dried flowers. The apothecary's interior was small but carefully organized. The shelves, which reached up to the low ceiling, were filled with countless jars, bottles and pots. Each container was neatly labeled with names such as “unicorn tears”, “silver thistles” or “lizard blood”. Bundles of dried herbs and roots hung from the ceiling, casting bizarre shadows on the walls in the dim light that fell through the dusty windows. On one of the window sills stood a cage in which sat a small green bird, chirping quietly. The space behind the polished wooden counter was empty, however – just as agreed, the gnome owner had apparently left the shop. Two doors led off from the sales room, but one of them was ajar and quiet voices could be heard behind it. This was probably the entrance to the basement.

Morânia carefully opened the door and descended the steps behind it, closely followed by Naghûl. The staircase did indeed lead to a small basement. Several boxes stood on the floor, and wooden caskets were arranged on several shelves, indicating that the room was used for storage. Sarin and Faith, Kiyoshi, Mallin, Sekhemkare and Ambar were already present. Morânia did not fail to notice that the factol of the Godsmen was unusually punctual by his standards. It clearly showed how much the matter meant to him. Seeing Sarin, Kiyoshi and Mallin in their armor was a familiar sight, but Morânia was encountering Faith in such a warlike garb for the first time. She wore bracers and a breastplate bearing the symbol of her goddess Iomedae, a downward-pointing sword in front of a sun. A long, light-colored robe reached almost to her ankles, but steel greaves were clearly visible beneath it. Sarin's wife had also braided and pinned up her dark hair. Sekhemkare wore a black and green battle robe with metal shoulder plates, while Ambar was clad in light leather armor and carried both a long sword and a bow. When Morânia and Naghûl entered the cellar, they bowed to the factols and Faith, then everyone waited quietly for the next participants of the expedition. About ten minutes later, Sgillin arrived as agreed, and finally Terrance and Jana. While the half-elf wore his usual dark robes and carried his bow over his shoulder, Jana was dressed in a black robe with a dark blue stripe at the hem, slit at the sides to allow freedom of movement for her legs. Terrance was neither wearing one of the silver-embroidered blue robes that he was usually seen in in Sigil, nor was he dressed in the dark cloak that Morânia by now knew he preferred when traveling incognito in the Hive and the Lower Ward. He wore a practical black and gray robe that reached just above his shins, revealing sturdy boots.

After greeting the others, Terrance's gaze wandered to the katana Kiyoshi carried, and he nodded slightly. “I see you have the sword Hope with you.”

The young soldier bowed to the high priest. “I brought it as a precaution, honorable Factol Terrance-heika. Unfortunately, however, I do not have the myoji-taito.”

Sgillin frowned. “Whatever that is ... but good to know.”

“It is the right to bear a surname and a sword,” Kiyoshi explained. “That means I am not allowed to wield this blade.”

“Heartening,” Sekhemkare hissed sarcastically.

“Wait a minute.” Jana looked at Kiyoshi with a hint of bewilderment. “We retrieved the sword from the catacombs beneath Broken Reach. It chose you as its bearer. Lereia, Garush and Yelmalis are prisoners of Red Shroud because of it. And you say you don't want to wield it?“

Kiyoshi shook his head solemnly. ”It's not a question of wanting, honorable Jana-san. However, according to the laws of my homeland Kamigawa, I am not allowed to.”

Morânia understood Jana's reaction all too well. Kiyoshi's words sounded outrageous. But then again, they knew by now that the prime world of Kamigawa had many strict traditions and customs, and the young soldier still felt deeply committed to them.

“Kiyoshi,” Naghûl said, eyeing the soldier intently. “You are the Chosen of an ancient prophecy. If that's not enough, then I don't know what is.” As he spoke, he glanced at Sarin, almost imploringly.

The factol of the Harmonium sighed. “Kiyoshi, should our survival depend on you taking this sword - just in this case - then you take it, please. Right and surname or not.”

The young man did not seem very happy about the instruction, but he braced and saluted. “As you command, honorable Factol Sarin-gensui.”

The paladin nodded. “Thank you, soldier.”

“You are certainly worthy of the sword, Kiyoshi,” Morânia said encouragingly. “Otherwise, you would not be its bearer.”

The young soldier bowed his head slightly, and the bal'aasi thought she saw a certain gratitude in his eyes for her encouragement.

“I'm glad that's settled,” Mallin grumbled, his voice clearly tinged with impatience. “Can we go now?”

Sarin nodded briefly. “Yes, let's go. The sooner we free the prisoners, the better.” He stepped aside and pointed to an arch built into the wall of the cellar. “There are eleven of us, so the portal won’t stay open long enough for all of us to pass through. We’ll have to split into two groups. First will go Faith, Mallin, Kiyoshi, Sekhemkare and myself. Then Terrance, Ambar, Morânia, Naghûl, Jana and Sgillin will follow.”

“Understood,” Ambar replied. “The key is to speak the name of Shekinester while lighting a flame. This flame can be a normal one as well as one produced by magic.”

Faith stepped close to the stone archway. “I will perform the first activation. Gentlemen, if you please.”

Sarin and Mallin stood to her left, Kiyoshi and Sekhemkare to her right, directly behind her.

Then Faith raised her right hand, made a brief gesture and spoke the Celestial word for flame. Immediately, a small tongue of fire appeared, flickering above her open palm. Then the priestess spoke the name of the naga goddess. “Shekinester.”

There was a brief, familiar glow and flicker in the air, and the portal opened. Faith stepped through quickly, followed by her husband, Mallin, Kiyoshi and Sekhemkare. Just a second after the yuan-ti had passed through the archway, the gate closed again. Ambar looked at the others, and Terrance nodded on behalf of the rest of the group. The bard did as Faith had done before and stepped up to the brick archway in the wall, now solid again. The others stood close behind him. Then Ambar also made a brief gesture and spoke the word for flame, but in Elvish. Thanks to her deva grandmother and her elven grandfather, Morânia understood both languages, Celestial and Elvish. A small flame appeared above the bard's palm, and when he uttered the name of the naga goddess, the portal opened again. He quickly stepped through, Terrance and Jana behind him. Morânia followed almost side by side with Naghûl.

When they arrived on the other side, she immediately looked over her shoulder. Sgillin was there too. Then the portal closed behind them with a soft crackle, leaving nothing but dusty, shimmering air in the arcade of an ancient ruin. Morânia was no stranger to the abrupt change in temperature and lighting conditions when passing through a portal. The environment was suddenly dry and hot, the smell of sand and ancient stone lingering in the air. They stood in the middle of a savanna-like landscape, the parched clay soil interspersed with coarse sand and sharp stones. The Court of Light, the realm of Shekinester, goddess of the nagas ... She was also called the Three-Faced Queen, as Morânia knew. In her aspect as the Empowerer, she was considered merciful and kind, delivering ancient wisdom. As the Preserver, Shekinester was a kind of mother goddess who protected the dead and gave succor to the living - but only in times of extreme peril. The Weaver, on the other hand, sought to destroy those who were unable to use their strength and wisdom in accordance with her trials. Depending on which aspect of the goddess they followed, nagas could thus be friendly, indifferent or dangerous. The abandoned palace they had to seek out was, of course, located in the part of the realm associated with the Weaver. What a surprise, the bal'aasi thought to herself. Mallin had drawn his sword immediately after passing through the portal and was now vigilantly watching the surroundings.

Faith glanced briefly at Terrance. “I sense the power of the naga goddess,” she said quietly.

The high priest of the Great Unknown nodded gently. “We are definitely in her realm.”

“Yes, what a pleasure,” Sekhemkare hissed. When Jana gave him a questioning look, he shrugged. “My ancestors come from Smaragd, the realm of the god Merrshaulk. He and Shekinester are not exactly on friendly terms.”

Morânia had not known until then that the ancestors of the yuan-ti hailed from the realm of the chaotic and evil serpent god in the Abyss. It didn't feel particularly good, but she immediately reminded herself that Sekhemkare, who had grown up in Sigil, was not responsible for his ancestry. She herself didn't want people to see only her succubus grandmother in her. Only his own actions could speak for Sekhemkare, and at the moment he was on a mission with them to rescue Lereia, Garush and Yelmalis. That should be enough.

Unlike his colleague from the Mercykillers, Sarin had not yet drawn his scimitars, but he was observing the surroundings just as attentively. “Be vigilant,” he said. “In this wasteland, every dune can hide dangers. So ... where do we need to go?”

His question seemed to be directed at Ambar and Sgillin – the two rangers surely had the best sense of direction. Both half-elves looked around, shielding their eyes with their hands to protect them from the glaring sun. Then, almost simultaneously, they stretched out their other arms.

“There,” said Ambar. “That must be it.”

Morânia squinted, but even though Sgillin and the factol of the Godsmen were pointing in the direction, it took her a while to see it. In the distance, on the horizon, a faint silhouette was looming: the outline of a building, visible only as a dark spot against the bright sky.

“I estimate that it will take us about three hours by foot to reach the palace,” Sgillin explained.

The others nodded. Lissandra the Gate-Seeker had made it clear that this was the nearest known portal, but that a certain distance still had to be covered on foot to reach their destination. So all of them had arrived at the portal well rested and with enough fresh water.

Sekhemkare looked up at the scorching sun. “At least the temperature is pleasant here,” he remarked.

Morânia had to smile. Yes, for a yuan-ti, it probably was. Everyone else obviously found it rather uncomfortably hot. Sarin, who hailed from a very warm region of his home world of Ortho, seemed to cope with the temperature better than the rest. Nevertheless, even he cast a spell on himself to alleviate the effects of the heat. Morânia followed his example, as did Terrance, Ambar, Faith and Mallin. Like clerics, paladins and rangers, sorcerers also had access to this spell, but neither Naghûl nor Jana had ever learned it, so the bal'aasi protected her husband, and Terrance did the same for Jana. While Sekhemkare, as a yuan-ti, coped well with the temperatures, Faith also cast the protective spell on Sgillin so that he could save his spells. Finally, she looked questioningly at Kiyoshi.

“Thank you for your generous offer, Lady Faith-hiheika,” the young soldier said with a bow. “However, I have been very resistant to high temperatures since my dragon blood has surfaced.”

Faith nodded with a smile. “I thought so. Then you are probably already sufficiently prepared for the march ahead of us.”

Mallin glanced briefly at Sarin, looking somewhat concerned – a sentiment the factol of the Mercykillers did not show all too often. “Then let's get on with it,” he grumbled. “And we should remember what Lady Erin told us.”

Naghûl nodded seriously. “The dark nagas.”

The Sensates' factol had, of course, gathered some information about the Court of Light in advance, especially about the Weaver's domain. In the area around the Opal Tears Palace, there was apparently a settlement of nagas who were not exactly friendly towards visitors. They hoped that there would be no confrontation, but they were prepared for one nonetheless.

 

They had been wandering through the savanna for over an hour without incident. They walked mostly in silence, side by side, the soft crunch of sand under their feet scarcely audible. The scorching sun beat down on the dunes that already crisscrossed the land here, heralding the transition to the desert. Without appropriate protective spells, everyone except Kiyoshi and Sekhemkare would have been completely exhausted by now. The sky was so radiantly blue that it hurt the eyes, and the heat danced in waves across the vast plain, distorting the barren contours of the landscape and making everything appear blurry and unreal. Here and there, jagged rock formations broke through the monotonous expanse of the savanna, remnants of ancient mountains that had been shaped into bizarre sculptures by wind and weather. Like the land itself, they were covered in a thick layer of ochre-colored dust. But despite the dryness and apparent barrenness, there was life. Tufts of stiff, yellow grass clung to the cracked ground, and here and there acacia trees with their umbrella-like crowns stretched towards the sky, their leaves dust-covered and leathery. Lizards with yellow-brown scales and small, sand-colored jerboas scurried nimbly between the tufts of grass, and occasionally they could spot a herd of wildebeests on the horizon, wandering in search of fresh grazing land. Cicadas buzzed everywhere, their monotonous chirping a constant accompaniment to the silence of the savanna.

At the edge of a dry riverbed, they saw the weathered remains of a forgotten civilization. Once mighty walls of reddish stone now crumbled under the weight of the heat, decorated with reliefs that told of past battles. Four- and six-armed nagas could be seen fighting warriors with humanoid torsos but the lower bodies of scorpions. Only a few columns still stretched towards the sky, as if proudly defying oblivion. Here and there, fragments of mosaics sparkled in the sunlight, witnesses to a past splendor that now lay in the dust. Those who had once inhabited this place had long been forgotten, their history lost in the sands of time, a silent testimony to the transience of all things. Every Sinker, Morânia thought to herself, would have enjoyed the sight.

At the edge of these ruins, Sgillin, who was scouting ahead, raised his hand and stopped. “Someone has passed through here recently,” he explained. “And no one walking on two legs.”

 

 

Ambar stepped beside him and examined the tracks the other half-elf was pointing to. “Imprints of large snake bodies,” he confirmed. “They are barely visible. The wind has already covered them with sand in the surrounding area. But Sgillin is right: Here, between the dry tufts of grass, you can still see them.“

Sarin sighed. ”I had a feeling that the journey would not be without incident. Sgillin?“

The half-elf straightened up and turned around. ”Factol Sarin?“

”Can you keep an eye out to see if anyone is hiding behind the next dunes? Maybe we are lucky and the encounter will be peaceful. But we should still be prepared for a fight.“

Sgillin nodded. ”Of course, Factol. I will go and scout.” He stepped into the shadow of one of the pillars and became invisible. Only the imprints of his footsteps in the sand revealed that he was moving away towards the dunes.

They waited quietly and alertly for a while, speaking only in hushed voices and keeping a close eye on their surroundings. Sarin leaned against one of the pillars, apparently going through various possibilities of the upcoming encounter in his mind. Kiyoshi stood like a guard at his factol's side, his naginata in both hands, and Faith also kept her eyes on her husband. While Mallin, Morânia, Naghûl, Ambar and Sekhemkare formed a small half circle around the three of them, Terrance walked over to the ruined walls to study the reliefs. Jana stayed at his side, and Morânia watched as the Athar’s factol repeatedly pointed to some of the figures, apparently telling the young sorceress something about them. The bal'aasi smiled. Terrance always had something of a scholar and teacher about him, and he was clearly wanted to take this opportunity to study the remains of an ancient culture and share his knowledge with one of his protégés. Having always been fascinated by the history of all kinds of planar cultures herself, Morânia could well understand this. 

 

Finally, Sgillin returned, stepping out of the shadow of the pillar at the exact spot where he had disappeared.

Sarin pushed himself away from the old stones he had been leaning against. “And?”

“A group of nagas,” the half-elf reported. “I counted about a dozen, two of them with six arms, all others four-armed. They've set up a small camp. As soon as we climb the next dune or walk round it, they'll spot us. It doesn't look like they're just encamping behind the dune.“

”All right,“ Sarin replied with a sigh and drew his scimitars. ”We will, of course, try to talk to them peacefully. But we will also gird ourselves.”

Mallin snorted a little dismissively at the word peacefully, but spared his colleague from the Harmonium a comment. Instead, he blessed the blade of his weapon, and Morânia and Sarin did the same. Terrance, who had returned to the group in the meantime, said some powerful protective prayers for himself and Sgillin, while the arcane spellcasters, Naghûl, Jana and Sekhemkare, cast their own protective spells on themselves. Ambar hummed a soft melody that made the heads of his arrows glow briefly, while Faith enchanted Kiyoshi's naginata and then said a few prayers for her husband.

Sgillin looked at the bow that Ambar was now taking from his shoulder. “A very fine weapon, esteemed Factol,” he noted appreciatively.

Ambar glanced briefly at his bow. “Thank you,” he replied with a faint smile. “It’s from the forests of Fayrill, my old home.”

Sgillin nodded, then detached a small bottle from his belt and took a sip. He then held the flask out to Ambar. “A slug for a steady hand?”

Morânia nodded knowingly. She was aware that many archers liked to drink a small amount of alcohol before a battle or a tournament, as it steadied the hand and calmed the mind in just the right measure.

Ambar smiled, now a little more convincingly. “Gladly.” He reached for the hip flask Sgillin offered him, took a sip, and then handed it back. “Thank you.”

“Save some for me ...” Sarin sighed.

Sgillin nodded seriously. “Of course, Factol.”

When all the protective spells and prayers had been cast, Sarin turned to his wife. “I would appreciate it if ...” He paused.

Faith raised her dark eyebrows. “I know,” she replied, her voice gentle but with a slight reproachful undertone. “I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.” Sarin cleared his throat apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he added even more quietly.

Morânia gave her husband Naghûl a knowing smile. Yes, when fighting side by side with a beloved one, there were two dangers. On the one hand, despite all the risks, one had to trust in each other's strengths and should not underestimate the partner out of concern. On the other hand, one had to be aware that other people were also taking part in the fight who might need support more urgently in a critical situation. And one had to have the nerves to act accordingly. She and Naghûl were well attuned to each other, having fought many battles together – and yet they were not always free of this flaw. From what Morânia knew about the Harmonium's recent past, Sarin and Faith had also fought side by side. They were therefore familiar with this situation, and yet it was clear that the factol could not completely put aside a certain concern for his wife. Good, Morânia thought to herself. Anything else would have surprised her.

Mallin took the brief exchange as an opportunity to step up beside Sarin and give him a stern look. “If it comes to a fight, hold back a little, alright? Don’t act the hero.”

The Harmonium’s factol raised his eyebrows. “Shall I leave that to you?”

“Today yes, if you don’t mind,” Mallin replied gruffly.

Sarin actually smiled a little at this remark. “I’ll consider it.”

“Hmm.” The paladin of Hoar nodded contentedly and then looked over at his colleague from the Athar, who was already walking towards the next dune.

“Terrance, wait a minute,” Ambar called out. “Don't go there alone.”

“Then come,” the high priest of the Great Unknown replied calmly, but without slowing his pace.

“For once, I have to admit that the man is right,” Mallin grumbled. “We should get this over with.”

So they all hurried to follow the Athar's factol and decided to walk round the dune instead of climbing it. The elevated position would have given the archers an advantage in the case of a fight. But in the soft sand, fighting on sloping ground would have been unfavorable for the melee fighters. Behind the dune, they spotted a small camp, just as Sgillin had described. Several tents made of shimmering purple and orange silk were stretched over wooden frames artfully decorated with carvings. Golden threads ran through the fabric like cobwebs, and in front of the tents burned a small fire pit over which hung a bubbling cauldron. The light breeze carried the scent of burning sandalwood, but also a subtle note of musk and something indefinably bitter that burned unpleasantly in their throats. Between the tents, they could see about a dozen nagas, both male and female. The scales of their serpentine lower bodies shimmered like jewels in the sunlight, some emerald green, others amber and a few even sapphire blue. Above the scaly lower bodies rose humanoid torsos, most of them four-armed, muscular and slightly shiny, as if they had been oiled. Gold and gemstone bracelets adorned wrists and upper arms, and many of the nagas were armed with scimitars and short bows.

Two of them particularly caught Morânia's eye: one had ruby-red scales, the other night-black ones. These two nagas had six arms and appeared to be priestesses of the dark aspect of Shekinester, clerics of the Weaver. They radiated an aura of royal dignity and wore jeweled crowns that reflected the sunrays. One of the priestesses held a golden scepter shaped like the head of a cobra, the other a book with an ebony cover. One thing was clear at the sight of these nagas: they were beings not to be trifled with. But whether a peaceful agreement was even an option remained to be seen. Sarin led the way, with Mallin on his right and Kiyoshi on his left. He approached the naga camp openly and visibly, but without drawing his weapons. He obviously wanted to make it clear that his group was not trying to sneak up on them and had no hostile intentions. But as soon as the nagas spotted them, the ones in front drew their scimitars, while the two priestesses glided closer, majestic but alert.

“Stay back!” the black-scaled one with the cobra scepter shouted. She was an impressive sight, her serpentine body strong and iridescent, her features wild and darkly beautiful.

Sarin stopped and bowed slightly. “I present my compliments,” he called. “I assure you, we mean no trouble and do not want to disturb you. We only wish to pass.“

”No,“ the naga replied resolutely. ”Your journey ends here. This area of the Court of Light is closed to outsiders. Turn back.“

Mallin was less polite than Sarin. ”We have no time for such debates,“ he growled. ”Clear the way or face justice!”

“Justice?” The red-scaled priestess with the book hissed indignantly. “This is our land!”

“I heard something different,” Ambar called from further back. “But I don't want to interfere, the factol of the Mercykillers is doing a great job here.”

At the words factol of the Mercykillers the two priestesses exchanged astonished glances and looked at Mallin with some concern. Morânia noticed Terrance's smile and looked at Naghûl with amusement. The way Ambar had caused uncertainty among the nagas with this brief, seemingly innocent remark was a move worthy of a bard.

“We're in a hurry, woman,” the paladin of Hoar added. “So get out of the way.”

“That’s out of the question!” hissed the dark priestess with the book, this time not without a certain nervousness. “Even if you really are Mallin ...” She fell silent, leaving open the prospect of what was to come.

Sarin apparently decided to make another try at reaching an amicable agreement. “Friends of ours are in serious danger and we must help them. That's why we want to seek out the Opal Tears Palace,“ he explained calmly. ”We have no quarrel with you.“

The priestess with the cobra scepter now drew herself up to her full height. ”If you want to go to the palace, you do have a quarrel with us. I am a High Emissary of Shekinester, and I say: Stay away!”

“I'm sorry,” Sarin replied firmly. “But that's not an option.”

“Then die!” the red-scaled naga replied grimly, signaling to the others to attack.

Morânia drew her sword Heaven's Fire and raised her shield, which was adorned with the sun symbol of Lathander. So there would be no peaceful solution. It didn't seem as if the dark nagas had been interested in one anyway. She stepped alongside Sarin and Mallin as they also drew their weapons. Kiyoshi completed the line of melee fighters at the front, while Terrance, Faith and Sekhemkare stood behind them. The last row was formed by Jana and Naghûl, arcane energy now crackling between their fingers, flanked by Sgillin and Ambar, who strung their bows. The nagas also closed ranks, sand dancing around their serpentine bodies as the melee fighters drew their scimitars. The metallic clang echoed across the wasteland. The two priestesses raised the golden scepter and the black book and began to pray ... Before the naga archers could fire their first arrows, Sarin gave the command to attack.

With a rough battle cry, Mallin swung his two-handed sword through the air. At that moment, Morânia realized that his impressive appearance was not deceiving: he swung the weapon with incredible force, shattering the armor of one of the frontline fighters with a single blow. The naga screamed and sank into the sand - for her, the fight was over before it had even really begun. Morânia followed the example of the factol and charged forward. She struck one of the melee fighters with her sword and simultaneously parried his scimitar with her shield. When he dodged her blow, she immediately followed up with a strike of her shield, causing the green-scaled fighter to tumble. Her next sword strike hit the winding snake body. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kiyoshi charging forward with his naginata. The blade struck the shoulder of a naga warrior with full force, tearing a gaping wound. Sarin seemed to have forgotten his conversation with Mallin about holding back in battle. The paladin jumped over a small sand drift, landing directly between two naga warriors. He was not as heavily armored as the factol of the Mercykillers, which gave him more mobility and speed in battle. With a fluid movement, he brought forward his two scimitars, Aurum and Argentum. The first blade struck one of the nagas on the arm, the second followed swiftly and slid under her breastplate, deep between her ribs. She screamed and immediately fell to the ground. The other naga attacked Sarin from the side almost simultaneously, but he dodged her blow. One of his scimitars glinted in the sun and then struck with lightning speed, finding the gap between his opponent's chest- and shoulder plate with deadly precision.

Faith, who had just sent a bolt of holy light towards the black-scaled priestess, now noticed her husband's daring and looked at him in annoyance. “Sarin!” It sounded less fearful than reproachful.

He gave her an apologetic look and then stepped back to Morânia's side. “I know I shouldn't act the hero,” he said as he channeled the divine energy he needed for a powerful smite.

The bal'aasi blocked a naga fighter's blow with her shield. “I'm not judging, Factol. A paladin should not stand at the rear during battle.”

 

 

He smiled. “I knew we’d understand each other,” he said before lunging again and delivering a strike imbued with holy energy against the red-scaled priestess.

Meanwhile, two arrows whizzed into the ranks of the naga archers from behind. Like silver streaks against the pale sky, they flew over the heads of the combatants, hitting one archer between the eyes and another one in the throat. Both fell to the ground immediately. A quick glance told Morânia that the two half-elves had changed positions. While Sgillin had retreated a little further back onto the dune, Ambar had moved up to Naghûl to cover his flank. This gave Sgillin a clear field of fire, but one of the naga warriors now lunged for the bard, brandishing his scimitar. Quick-thinking, Ambar lowered his bow, drew his long sword and parried the blow, while Sgillin fired another arrow.

With the Godsmen's factol blocking the attack from the side, Naghûl was able to concentrate on a spell. A hail of glowing missiles shot from his fingers and struck the black-scaled priestess, who had already been wounded by Faith. Next to her husband, Sekhemkare made a grasping gesture. Shadow vines shot out of the ground near Kiyoshi and grappled two of the naga warriors, preventing them from advancing. Almost simultaneously, lightning struck a naga archer - a spell cast by Jana, who was standing behind Mallin. Terrance, who was covering the sorceress' left flank, cast a healing spell on Kiyoshi, who had suffered a long slash in his leg.

When Morânia saw that Mallin and Kiyoshi were forming the left flank, she nodded briefly to Sarin, signaling that he could focus on the red-scaled priestess. She would work together with Ambar to shield the spellcasters on the right side. As the factol of the Harmonium had done before, she channeled holy energy into her blade, Heaven's Fire, and then brought the sword down on an advancing warrior. The naga recoiled with a cry of pain. The soft hissing in the air behind her revealed that Naghûl and Jana had cast another hail of magic missiles almost simultaneously. The glowing balls struck the naga archers standing further back, causing two of them to sink to the ground.

To Morânia's left, Mallin raised his sword and called upon his god. The bal'aasi knew this prayer ... the Judgment of Hoar. Red energy enveloped the black-scaled naga priestess, and she broke off the spell she had been about to cast. Her movements slowed, then she dropped the golden serpent scepter she held in one of her six hands. Without hesitation, the factol of the Mercykillers swung his blade and pierced the dark priestess' chest. Almost at the same moment, Kiyoshi unleashed his newly discovered fire breath, scorching the scales of one of the naga warriors. An arrow from Sgillin finished him off. Meanwhile, Faith rushed to Sekhemkare, who had been hit in the shoulder by a naga arrow. She healed the wound and the yuan-ti nodded his thanks, then hurled a beam of reddish energy at an approaching warrior. Ambar fended off another one with his long sword.

The battlefield was by now a chaos of sand and blood, battle cries, screams of pain and the clang of weapons. The remaining high priestess of the nagas uttered a prayer that darkened the sky above them and sent a dozen bolts of lightning striking down on the group. Terrance reacted immediately by spreading both arms and drawing a wide arc in the air with his hands. Most of the lightning bolts struck harmlessly into an invisible dome above the group's heads. Only two found their targets: Sgillin and Sarin, who were standing outside the protective barrier. Naghûl vigorously motioned to the half-elf to move into the radius of Terrance's spell. Sgillin didn't hesitate for long, sliding down the sand of the dune and coming to a stop between Jana and Sekhemkare. Morânia immediately laid her hands on him to heal the burns he had suffered from the lightning strike.

Sarin's armor, on the other hand, seemed to have absorbed most of the electrical energy. With two determined steps, he followed the priestess, who had withdrawn from him. She hurled a beam of energy at him, but Sarin dodged and the spell narrowly missed him. Simultaneously with his evasive movement, using the momentum of his twirl, he struck. Both scimitars found their target, Aurum between the lower ribs, Argentum above the priestess' collarbone. No scream. Just a surprised gasp before she slumped and her body sank lifelessly into the sand.

When the second priestess fell, the remaining nagas had a change of heart and quickly retreated, leaving their tents and equipment behind. Out of breath, Morânia lowered her sword and shield. A quick glance at Sarin confirmed what she had suspected: they would not pursue the dark nagas. So she cleaned her sword as best as she could and looked around to see if anyone in the group needed healing. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be reasonably well.

Mallin stood next to the body of the black-scaled priestess he had struck down. “What a pity,” he said matter-of-factly. “A truly impressive creature. But punishment must be meted out.”

Sarin looked around the ravaged camp and frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder if Red Shroud is behind this attack.”

“I wouldn't rule it out,” said Terrance.

“But why, factol?” Jana asked, confused. “Red Shroud wants a kiss from Sarin. Why would she have him attacked?”

“I don’t think she wanted to seriously harm Sarin,” Terrance explained. “But she wanted to weaken our fighting power. Make us exhaust ourselves and use up our spells and prayers.”

“Yes.” Ambar, like Sgillin, had collected some of his arrows. “That fits with the fact that the nagas fled when their priestesses fell. In other words, when they realized our strength. Since Red Shroud doesn't know who Sarin is bringing to the meeting, they probably expected less resistance. For example, they were clearly surprised to see Mallin.”

“But Red Shroud could have guessed that he would be there,” Naghûl interjected.

“Basically, yes. But that doesn't mean she told the nagas.” Ambar shrugged. “Otherwise, they might not have agreed to ambush us here.”

Sarin put away the scimitars, he had cleaned, looking displeased. “Well, what a heartening start.”

Meanwhile, Terrance knelt down next to one of the archers and checked her pulse. “This one is still alive,” he said, and then began to say a prayer for her healing.

“What are you doing?” Mallin asked harshly. “Have you forgotten that this snake just tried to kill us?”

Terrance remained unperturbed by Mallin's rude tone and calmly finished his prayer.

Faith, on the other hand, gave the factol of the Mercykillers a reproachful look. “He feels committed to the principle of healing above all else,” she explained. “And I think he's right.”

Morânia nodded in agreement. A battle was a battle, but after a victory, one should offer help to a wounded opponent. That was how she herself had always handled it too.

Sarin also seemed to agree, as he cut off another objection from Mallin with a brief gesture. “Let him. He's doing the right thing.”

The dying naga stirred slightly as the healing energy from Terrance's prayer flowed through her. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, she recoiled, but the Athar's factol placed a hand on her forehead and gestured for her not to speak.

“We will now move on,” he explained. “But you will survive. Do not forget today. And if you must follow a goddess by all means, consider whether it should be the aspect of the Weaver.”

Jana nodded solemnly at his words, and Morânia saw Ambar smile slightly out of the corner of her eye. Of course, no one had failed to notice that Terrance was using his charity to reinforce the principles of his faction. But even though she was a paladin of the Morninglord, Morânia couldn't blame him. Everyone who belonged to a faction tried to strengthen its philosophy, and a factol in particular. After Terrance had made sure that the naga was breathing evenly and had somewhat recovered, he stood up and nodded to Sarin, signaling that they could continue on their way. They quickly left the scene of the battle behind them, hoping to reach the Opal Tears Palace without further incident.

 

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played May 8, 2013

The spell for alleviating the heat is the 3e spell “Endure Elements.”

In DnD, nagas are predominantly large snakes with humanoid heads, but I opted for the variant with a humanoid torso and multiple arms - partly because there were some beautiful monster sprites in NWN 1.